French Colonialism

The last day in Yangon saw me pootling around the streets taking pics of colonial buildings until the rain came. Shelter was sought in an extortionate Belgium coffee house although I did get to drink real English tea and eat chocolate brownies. After 5 hours killing time I flew back to Bangkok to spend 3 days with BK Mike. He is most hospitable and the time was spent watching movies, eating curry and planning the next part of trippingtons. I arrived in Hanoi early yesterday.

Hanoi is a beautiful city. Lots of trees, beautiful architecture, well maintained buildings and streets so clean you could eat your dinner off them. A stark contrast to Yangon, the only similarity being the French colonial style.

Below are buildings in Yangon. Once beautiful but now dilapidated and about to be torn down.

In contrast the Parisianesque streets of Hanoi. Fresh, pastel  shades and lush, green foliage.

I did venture into the museum of the revolution to learn about the constant struggle of the Vietnamese people. They are a bloody hardy bunch, a lesson learnt by the French and USA at their peril.

Like all colonial powers the French were pretty shitty. Below is the guillotine used to execute leaders of the many uprisings.

I took theses pictures as it shows Hanoi's opera house then and now.

Then being the 1950's and something to do with the first elections...

Now being yesterday, if you look closely you can see a poster for 'babes in the woods.'

This photo is the huge celebration that took place after the Americans fooked off, it covers a full wall.

And this is the museum from the outside, 1930's I think.

So what made Adilady happy today? Sitting by Hoam Kiem Lake in the heart of Hanoi, watching the fish jumping...

The bridge reminds me of St James' Park.

Also an unexpected stroke of luck was sharing a dorm with Isabella, a native Vietnamese photographer who also teaches English. She took me out for dinner from the city street stalls where I ate 'floating cakes' which look like eyeballs, soya noodles and dorian fruit; it was delicious and I don't know what all the fuss is about. Isabella is 28 and not married or engaged, strange for these parts. She tells me that Vietnamese men are lazy, sexist and stupid lol.

I'm not feeling the love for or from Vietnam and think I may find it tricky here, I really hope I'm wrong. I'm off to pound the streets of Hanoi once again with my camera before I catch the night train up to Sappa. Lots of love to everybody, I will endeavour to resume Skypeage once in Sappa, I haven't been feeling very chatty xxxx